While brave Prince Hal was cavorting in the buff, where was his security
detail?

I love the way Americans call it “Loss” Vegas, which makes the glamorous place name resonate with a deeper, darker meaning. And I love American television on matters royal, because they cut straight to the chase. I picked NBC: “The Palace has gone on damage control,” said Thursday’s Nightly News. It was a crisp, poker-faced and grown-up report. “The prince, who — let us remember — is a young, single man with a military background and a better-than-average benefits package, was playing nude billiards with a young woman, and that’s not a euphemism.”

After saying that the fuzzy pictures were “not shown in the UK — yet”, the programme cut to Martin Bashir, the interviewer who brought Diana’s Grand Guignol to a horrified audience. He had obviously been quite prolix in front of camera, but NBC had cut his remarks to a very small ribbon: “You are a member of the Royal family, whether you like it or not you carry certain responsibilities.” That was one insightful nugget. “In addition, he also represents the British Army.” That was another, but NBC then cut him off.

The big question for US telly (and for me) was: why didn’t Harry’s security detail remove cameras from guests? They could easily have asked the star-struck young girls to deliver up their iPhones or be thrown out.

At a Los Angeles party for Anjelica Huston, I asked a stone-faced man with his back to the door-jamb if he was guarding the jewellery or guarding Ms Huston. “I am part of the personal security detail for one of the invitees to this function, ma’am.” Goodness. Are you expecting trouble? “We don’t anticipate trouble, ma’am, we just like to be ready to offset any trouble that may occur.” Goodness. Are you armed? “Yes, ma’am. You from England?” Where do you keep the gun? “Down my pants, ma’am. Within very easy reach.”

Ken Wharfe — Diana’s “favourite” bodyguard, supposedly — seemed a bit annoyed when NBC asked why the security was so bad. “It’s not up to the protection officer — the bodyguard — to worry or be concerned about the private antics of their charge,” he said. A bit snottily, if you ask me. “But you are responsible for their security. In this case, nothing happened.” Oh, really? By “nothing”, he meant that none of the girlies pulled out a piece and shot at Harry, thus obliging one of the lackadaisical guards to interpose his body between her and the prince. In the fuzzy pictures I saw, the bodyguards looked as merry as anyone else in the room.

Peter Oborne wrung his hands at length in yesterday’s paper, condemning Harry for hedonism, shallowness and what people in the 1950s used to call “utter LMF” (lack of moral fibre) for shirking his duty. ’Tis true. The poor boy hasn’t a lot of moral fibre. Nor very many brains.

Gold medallist 2012 in smart-thinking is Max Clifford, who told the BBC that he was telephoned by two (separate) people on Thursday, asking him to represent them in the matter of certain photographs they happened to own. “I said no!” Max said. “I wouldn’t touch ’em.” Beeb: What people? Max: “Heh-heh. I’m not saying.” Beeb: Were they English or American people? Max: “I’m not saying.” Beeb: What sex were they? “Heh heh!” Max gave in. “Girls,” he said. “They were two separate girls.”

One of them would have been the young woman described by Mr Arthur Landon, the prince’s close friend and fellow-partier, as “despicable” because she had “abused Harry’s hospitality”. She had indeed. But if we’re going to clamber on high horses here and issue diktats about mannerliness, may I say that it is neither gentlemanly nor officer-like to call pretty and playful young women from a different culture “despicable”? And if young Landon had the prince’s welfare uppermost in mind, he might have suggested to his friend that, along with their clothes, everyone in the room should leave their iPhones with the alert, watchful and clearly sober bodyguards. Whether or not they carry a piece down their pants, which I doubt.